"Not bad." Not bad, her ass. Kate's warm and the image in her head is vivid. But it's just that. An image. Not a desire.

Fuck. Guess that answers the question of how she knows.

None of that shows on Kate's face, though, and it's definitely not in her voice when she answers, "Magnus, beautiful, if I get my mouth all over you, you won't be doing anything for awhile except screaming my name," at a low, promising purr.